You Fight Me {Celestius}

[Fedafyr]

For Your Consideration
.I don't know what I want to be yet.
Pawns: Fedafyr & Celestius
.But I can show that I need to see this
Status: Private, Closed
.No time for lies and empty fights
Current Count: 2606
.I'm on your side
Time: Present
.Can we live a life of peace and happiness?
His Style: No sleeves, no vest; hair down; dirty
.I don't think so
Her Style: Armor untouched; hair down
.No denying I am scared to lose the things I love.
Scene: Reunion.
.I'm in control..

You‘re a murderer.

Fedafyr’s fingers gripped into the iron wrought bars of the gate as he stared out of it like a small, caged animal. A sign of patient satisfaction was in his eyes, the fading glint of power in those bright yellow irises, shadowed by the thick lashes that hung. The doll face that he had been born with lay its head calmly against one of the black bars, his cheek pressed up and rounded, innocent cherubim features that pulled his lips up into a serene sort of smile. His soft lips caught the fading light of the flickering lamp, shining glossy under its candle-like glow from the cobblestone walkway beyond the gated community that was the Dream World’s Somnium. His ebony hair fell in thick ropes around his shoulders and down his back, caressing the exposed flesh and framing that feminine face. The inexpensive material of the gate finally gave way to the imprint of his slowly strengthening grip, relieving the space betwixt his claws and the heel of his hand, drawing lines of deep red blood down his wrists. Unchecked by cloth, the crimson fluid dripped down the bare arms, running between each new puddle like a connect-the-dots puzzle. Unmarred by damage, as if an angel, Fedafyr stood head deep in spilled blood. It pooled at his feet, slipping off his skin, sliding from the soft, glossed lips, spilled over the smooth cherubim face. The scene beyond the gate and the small, blood-soaked angel lay an entourage worth of bodies, mutilated beyond recognition, denizens of the dream world, hunter of the cruel and dangerous serial killer.

… They came begging for it.

He pushed that angelic face back and turned on his heel, the fox tail damp, the fur looking much like a paintbrush newly dipped in crimson red. It brushed the wall as he pivoted, leaving a red streak across it and following that, the iron bars. He descended upon a body still recognizably Elven, kneeling down over the smooth contours of the fear-struck face. To the chest, the boy looked so unharmed, merely caught in some nightmarish coma, unable to move. Beyond that simple coincidence of perfection, the innards still slowly pulled by gravity from the gaping wound that dripped red with blood, pooling all of it below his twisted and mangled lower half, bleeding into the light colors of the cloth of his garments. Arrogance had bid them wear conspicuous clothing. Numbers made them soft, weak. Fedafyr slipped down, slowly spreading himself out upon the bloodied cement, laying as he stared into the haunted face of this victim. The Elemental spirit contemplated slowly, serenely, the statistic improbability of the boy‘s unmarred face. His fingers moved up to brush red streaks across the pale white cheeks, leaving a bloody handprint where serious wounds had never found themselves during this Elf‘s life.

His body then rolled, slowly facing toward the darkened, misty sky. His hair pooled around him on the concrete where his body lay. Above him, the dark night sky stretched ominously behind the thick fog. In the dense scents that blew their fragrance into his nostrils, there was something beyond this little scenario. Something familiar. It smelled of ash and too-pleasant smoke. His lashes slowly dropped to his cheeks as he focused in on the scent, trying to pick it out through the thick aroma of death that lay in the air around him, but the mist seemed a bit too still, the winds a bit too stagnant. The slender fingers crawled across the concrete as he extended bare arms, left as such by the disarray of his clothing after the unexpected encounter with the slaughtered herd that lay around him. His haori lacked its sleeves, his normal black vest was lost temporarily to the heat of battle. His red hakama was seemingly unharmed but for a few tears in its thick cloth. Fedafyr‘s body curled up to a sitting position, the muscles bared by the loosely hanging haori remaining tightening and becoming visible beneath the soft, stained skin.

He stared intently at the gate, beyond the cobblestone, past the flickering light. The mist was thicker than usual in this area, the fog that settled around the school this night seeming a bit unnatural. Rising to his feet, Fedafyr took a deep breath again, filling his nostrils with mostly the scent of freshly upturned dirt and rent flesh and another hint of … fire. This fire smelled pleasant, burnt on familiar fuel. Steps brought him toward the wall beside the gate, white tabi socks moistening around the edges from the blood-fed grass. Two steps from touching the wall, he bent his knees and sprung seamlessly and gracefully to the top of the wall, the toning of a true predator in his stance and form. He stopped to focus once more on the scent, and felt the air grow thick, pushing against him as if it hid someone. The fog seemed to thicken and thin, the very elements that he himself lorded domain over swayed against their master in lieu of protecting… someone.. Something. Their opinions easily quashed, Fedafyr did not fear this minor resistance, but rather felt a rising inquisition inside his body. Unlike many times before, this feeling was different--the elements did not speak to him of adoring love and devotion, a mere sense to save him from himself--this night, they spoke of rebellion. Tonight, they swung their loyalty elsewhere, and few demanded a loyalty over an Elemental, no matter how… crazy… he might have been. He dared not make himself a beacon by using his element to oppress and demand them--not in his moment of weakness and vulnerability. Fedafyr twitched his tail irritably to and fro before descending the wall back to the side filled with his bodies.

If luck was with him this night, he would be passed without a second sniff.

[Celestius]

Celestius moved through the grass, shoulder’s back, head held high. The mist pressed against her, caressing her tanned skin even as it hissed and dissolved. Her right hand was across her body, clutching tightly to the hilt of her sword, always at her side. This place was new, different, and unpredictable. The mists ushered her forward but she stopped, feeling something on the air. Her breath left her lips in visible puffs, despite the mild temperature. Her armor creaked, leaving it nearly impossible to hear any other sound in the thick fog. Celestius’ green eyes flicked through the mist, watching and waiting, but nothing moved.

Her journey had been long and difficult and still no sign of Fedafyr. Not a hint of his existence outside of the occasional rumor of the murderous fox. To add to the horror, not a soul sent to find him had returned. Celestius was the last hope of recovering, or stopping, Fedafyr.

She took a deep breath and continued forward, the sound of armor and leather muffled across the expanse. Out of the mist seemed to appear a gate, wrought iron and tall, nestled between stone walls. Celestius moved forward, her grip tightening on the hilt of her blade. Beyond the gate, a structure began to emerge, a school. She looked at a moment, armor creaking to a halt. Her eyes devoured the scene, pulling in each intimate detail of the building. It was only once she continued to move forward that she saw the bodies. They lay cold and pale, mists clinging to the clammy flesh, as if their souls were slowly seeping away.

The grounds were soaked in blood, the grass red in a surreal nightmare. She recognized these faces. They were those sent before, her predecessors in the hunt for Fedafyr. Celestius put her left hand against the gate, her right ready to draw her sword still. An imprint in the iron distracted her a moment as her hand slid across it. They felt like clenched fingers. She looked at them seconds before a flicker of movement caught her eye. A tail. She looked closer. “Fedafyr…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he had to have heard. She shoved the gate open and jogged forward through the blood. She hoped she wouldn’t have to raise her sword against him.

[Fedafyr]

Fedafyr's ear twitched at the sound. The wind had attempted not to carry it, but the pursuer was far too close now. The elements would do nothing for their new friend at this proximity--too strong were Fedafyr's senses. The door to the building swung open into the empty, structured halls of the building, empty of the mists or whirring winds beyond the enclosed doors and windows except where they sought to intrude through those ajar. Fedafyr slid the door closed behind him, his fingers quickly locking it, the quiet 'click' resounding off the hallways like an echo though it was not so loud as his ears did percieve.

The fox stepped away from the door not even a moment after the lock had fallen into place, unwilling to be there when whatever pursued him barrelled through the splinters that would remain. He sped through the halls atop only tabi'd feet, silent like death, without even the utterance of his breath moving the air around him. At the end, he pressed his foot to the wall and sped himself down the parallel corridor, losing not a second for the turn before choosing an open room to slip inside, sliding the door closed behind him and finding himself among many rowsof compound chairs and tables, unlike anything he had witnessed previously. The elemental stared at the largest table in the front, beneath a white board upon the wall with various instruments to write upon its surface hanging in a small, silver tray lining the bottom.

Why do you run?

He slid his tongue against the back of his teeth, listening for the sounds of someone coming. The voice had triggered an odd reaction in him, to be sure. All the odd signs that had preceded the feminine sound had collided together in his head in a moment to give him a brief flash of a face he couldn't quite remember, but he knew he didn't wish to see. It could not be fear that goaded him; this feeling was far too intense for such a thing. Perhaps shame, or worry... but it was no doubt that this feeling was meant solely for the posessor of the voice that had uttered his name a moment before.

He slipped back to the corner of the room where the mists had gathered inside, slipping through the open hinges in the window above. Shrouded in this, he waited in the vantage of the room like a well-concealed predator, listening carefully to both inside and out for signs of the figure's approach.

[Celestius]

Celestius leapt over the fallen bodies as she watched his blood-drenched tail disappear behind closed doors. She reached the portal too late to catch him and found her path completely barred. She shoved lightly against the wood, her left hand pressed against it. Her fingers slid across its surface, following the grain for a moment before she took a step back, letting the tips of her fingers slip away. Her left hand fell to her scabbard, her right hand relaxing a moment. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath before moving forward in a single, swift motion, her sword flicking from its containment and shattering the door to splinters. She picked up her jogging pace through the corridor, replacing her sword as she went. Though she was here to stop him, she dare not approach him armed.

She sped to the end of the hall, staring down the paths, row upon row of doorways staring back. The winds whispered as she made a precise quarter turn, staring down the hall, the whispering stopped. Not a sign of him. Not a sound. She quieted her breathing, eyes glancing at the floor in front of the doors, the frame, anything that could give her even the smallest hint. But, Fedafyr was too quick, too smart to make such a foolish mistake.

Celestius growled slightly under her breath, the game had began, and she couldn’t help but feel she was a pawn on the losing side. This territory was his, the area known to him. “Fedafyr, please! I’m here to help you! What can I do if you hide behind closed doors?” Celestius opened the first door, yelling down the empty hall, hoping she could garner some response. Even just for him to give away his position, even if to start the hunt, the chase, again. She opened another door and still nothing. She started moving down one after the other.

[Fedafyr]

He smelled her. Embers and fire and something warm and welcoming. The feeling of wishing ever to press his face to her breast and commit all his sins to her memory. This familiar kindred feeling--a thought so far away from the kitsune's mind that it was naught more than a breath of defilement. She's no one. Kill her. He tried to right himself, to figure out what might be happening beyond that instinct. He wanted to know so much more about what was happening; he wanted to be aware of the situation.

I remember her. Do you not?

His eyes snapped open again and he slipped forward, the soft whisper following him as the mist's tendrils tried to hug him there, to hold him for her coming. The will of the elements was forever to see both patrons safe and healthy. Fedafyr was not safe. Fedafyr was not healthy.

Her voice broke the silence of the world around them, calling out to a deep part of him--a part that wished forevermore to be saved. A part that wished...

My disease will devour you... leave nothing left but the remnants of our memories.

He turned suddenly and burst through the window to the outdoors again. He ascended the wall by merit of nothing but speed and flipped from the edge of that roof to another. "... You cannot find me." His voice was too weak for his own ears to hear, the barest of whispers.. a promise, not only to him, but to her.

[Celestius]

She heard the crash behind the door, seconds before she reached it. No time for decorum, she kicked the door open and ran across the room, dodging around and over tables. She looked out, and saw his form running across the rooftop ahead. She could catch him. She knew it. She smirked slightly.

But, what fun would that be? She turned and walked out of the school. She could find him now. She knew where he hid and could watch him from a distance as a silent guardian. She would have to save him, and others, but first she had to reach him.

At least she knew, he was – alive. Safe seemed an inappropriate word. She walked across the threshold of the broken building, releasing the grip on her hilt. She looked up at the sky. It was a royal blue save the holes through which light clawed its way through. With a sigh, Celestius turned her attention to the fallen, tending to each one in turn. She passed one hand over their eyes, closing them as she placed another hand above their chest. Chanting a muttered prayer, each body quickly became nothing but ash, which quickly dissipated to the wind.

Once her task was complete, each body sent to peace and returned to the dream, she glanced back at the rooftops where Fedafyr had disappeared. She smirked again and wandered in his direction. She had no intention of catching him tonight, but she would keep an eye on him.